All I Ever Wanted
by nibblesfan
Summary: Meg's bullet didn't kill Christine, but at the her life was spared at the cost of another. Raoul, refusing to let Erik win, uses the chaos to slip away and flee the country, taking Gustave with him. Will Christine and Erik ever be reunited with their son? And can Gustave forgive his parents for the years of lies they put him through?
1. Chapter 1

Gustave felt sick to his stomach. There was blood everywhere. Mother's blood. Despite Mr. Y's best attempts at trying to stop the bleeding, there was nothing they could do, and even he, a ten year old child, knew it. Gustave needed to find his father. Maybe he could fix everything. At the very least it was someone familiar to cling to. "Where's Papa, he should be here!" Gustave cried through his tears. "Where's Papa?"

Mother grabbed his arm when he tried to run to find him. "Your father," his mother replied softly. "Your REAL father…" Mr. Y's eyes grew wide and he began to plead with her. But she whispered back to him, "He has to know, you're all he has left now." What could she mean by that? They had just met Mr. Y a few days ago. But his mother began to sing softly, explaining what she meant.

"_Look with your heart_

_And not with your eyes_

_The heart understands_

_The heart never lies_

_Believe what it feels_

_And trust what it shows"_

He needed to find his father. Gustave needed some sense of normalcy and quickly. His hands were shaking from shock and Gustave needed the reassurance that everything would be alright, but when he tried to run, his mother grabbed his wrist to keep him there as her song grew weaker and weaker.

"_Look with your heart_

_The heart always knows_

_Love is not always beautiful_

_Not at the start_

_So open your arms..._

_And close your eyes tight_

_Look with your heart_

_And when you find love…"_

Suddenly everything made sense. The way Mr. Y looked at Mother, the way Mr. Y looked at him. Gustave's eyes grew wide as he realized what that meant. His father wasn't his father; Mr. Y was his father! Everything he had ever known was nothing but an elaborate lie. Mr. Y reached out as if to touch him, but Gustave shrank away. It couldn't be true! "NO!" he screamed before running to find the man he had always thought was his father. Surely he could explain everything!

"Gustave!" Mr. Y screamed as when he ran. He glanced back and saw Mother trying to get up to follow him but she collapsed into Mr. Y's arms.

"Father!" Gustave sobbed when he saw the familiar figure in the crowds coming towards him. He threw himself at the Vicomte, in desperate need of reassurance. "Mother…Oh Father, it's awful! You have to hurry Father!"

"What's wrong Gustave?"

"Miss Giry…she…and Mother…" Gustave's body shuddered as he sobbed into Raoul's chest.

"Where's your mother?" he demanded.

"The…the p…p…pier!" The next thing he knew, Gustave was being pulled through the park by his hand back in the direction he had come from. No sooner than the pier came into view than Gustave's father stopped. The sob in his throat caught and he stared in shock. Mr. Y had Mother in his arms as he whispered her name over and over again. She wasn't moving and her eyes were closed. "Mother?"

His father put his hands on his shoulders. "Come Gustave, there's nothing we can do."

"But…but what about Mother?"

"There's nothing we can do," he repeated before leading him away, Mr. Y never becoming aware of their presence.

* * *

><p>Erik watched Gustave bolt through the crowds like a spooked horse. There was nothing that he wanted more than to go after his son, but Christine was dying in his arms. He had to do something, anything to save her. "Christine, stay with me," he pleaded as he put more pressure on her wound, trying desperately to keep her from bleeding to death.<p>

Out of the corner of his eye, Erik saw a crowd forming. The gunshot, Gustave's screaming, and his own had attracted a lot of attention from Phantasma's spectators. Everyone was staring as the famous Christine Daae lay dying in the arms of the mysterious Mr. Y. "Get out of my way!" a male voice shouted. An older man with salt and pepper hair pushed his way through the crowds and made his way to kneel beside Erik. He pushed Erik's hands away and took over. "Bullet to the stomach; that makes things more difficult. But not my first case. Pinch here." Erik did as he was told, as the man seemed to know what he was doing and was at least slowing the blood flow. "Spent some time down in Cuba when we were fighting the Spaniards. Never lost anyone to a bullet down there and I'd hate to lose one now that I'm home."

"Who…who are you?" Erik asked, staring at the man in disbelief.

"Louis Katz," the man replied. "I was a surgeon with the army for a number of years." He began to rip long strips from Christine's skirts to use as bandages. "Guess you were lucky that my wife decided to bring the children today. Let's see if we can keep her going until someone a little more prepared can get here. I said to pinch that!"

He wasn't sure how long it took, but the surgeon stayed but his side until proper help arrived, and Erik was dragged away from Christine. He fought violently to stay with her, but eventually he was overwhelmed and pulled away to make room for someone who could help her better than he. "Meg!" he heard a familiar voice shout, followed by a feminine scream. Erik saw Giry being restrained as a hysterical Meg was seized by the police.

"Wait!" Erik shouted to be heard over the chaos. Everyone turned to look at him. "She's not dangerous!"

"She shot an unarmed woman!" one of the policemen protested.

Erik shook his head. "She didn't mean it! It was an accident! Jail won't help her, she needs real help. She's troubled and…and I didn't realize it until it was too late. I swear, she's never been violent before."

"Please," Giry pleaded. "She didn't mean to hurt Christine! She was going to hurt herself and when he tried to take the gun away, it just went off!"

The police officer glanced back and forth between the two hysterical women. Meg was being held by two more officers and was screaming for her mother. "It's not my call to make," he finally said. "We have to take her in. But if what you say is true, then she'll most likely wind up in a hospital." Erik nodded, knowing there was little else he could do for the Girys. He knew that it was his fault that this had happened to Meg, and therefore to Christine, and the least he could do was get her the help she needed.

Christine was in the hands of those who could help her best, and Meg was in the hands of the authorities. That just left one person left. "Gustave?" he called, scanning the crowd for his son. Gustave had run off after Christine admitted the truth. Erik had been afraid this would happen, but hopefully the boy would warm up to the idea. Or at least not fear him any longer. "Gustave!"

"What's wrong?" one of the policemen asked.

"Gustave, m…her son, is missing." Erik realized that he nearly said 'my son' but right now that would cause more questions that he didn't want to answer. "He was here with Miss Giry, that's why we were down here, then he ran away after she was shot. You have to find him before something happens to him." Erik turned to Fleck, Gangle, and Squelch, who had finally arrived to figure out what the commotion was about. "I want one of you to check Miss Daae's dressing room, one of you to check backstage where he liked to go exploring, and I want one of you to check Miss Daae's hotel room in case he went all the way back there."

"What about the boy's father?" the officer asked. "Maybe he went to the Vicomte, or at least he might know where to look."

"The Vicomte de Chagny is gone. He left the moment the performance was through. One of my employees saw him leave," Erik admitted. "I'm not sure anyone but the Vicomte himself knew where he was going."

"Well that's rather convenient."

"Are you implying the Vicomte knew that Meg knew she was going to shoot his wife?" Erik shook his head. "No, it was an accident, and even if Meg had planned on hurting Christine, that's too cruel, even for the Vicomte."

Erik led the search for Gustave for hours, but there wasn't any sign of them. Eventually Fleck found him sitting in the aerie with his head in his hands. On a whim, he had come up here, thinking that since Gustave had been so enthralled with his automatons, he might have come up here, but there was no sign of his son. "Have you found him?" he demanded when he saw her.

Fleck got quite for a moment. "We're not going to," she finally answered. "The Vicomte and Gustave's belongings are gone. They're no longer on Coney Island."

He roared in rage. "I'll kill that drunken fool!" Erik screamed. "How dare he take _my _child?!"

"That's not all, Sir… Erik exhaled slowly, trying to reign in his temper. "I found a single ticket for a boat back to France with Miss Daae's belongings."

His eyes grew wide. "When does the boat leave?"

"It's already gone. It left a few hours ago."

With a roar of rage, Erik lashed out at the nearest automaton, sending it crashing to the ground, essentially destroying it. "Gustave is _my_ son! Not his, _mine_! If he thinks he's escaping this unscathed, he's sorely mistaken! I'll kill him!"

Erik stormed out of the room, unable to stay there any longer. He needed an outlet for his rage, and there wasn't anything for him there other than his work and ruining it would only anger him later on. He hadn't made it very far when he slammed into someone. Erik was about to shout when he realized it was the same man who stepped forward to help Christine on the pier. "I was hoping to run into you eventually," the former surgeon said with a tired smile.

"Why are you still here?" Erik asked, too angry with the world for formalities. It wasn't fair! Why did everything bad have to happen to him? He finally had chance to have happiness for the first time in over ten years, only to find it slipping through his fingers like sand.

"I was asked to assist with the care of the Vicomtess," Katz explained. Erik couldn't help but cringe at the use of Christine's proper title. Most of the Americans were crude and saw the Vicomte as a target of gossip and nothing but baggage that the famous Christine Daae was forced to deal with. Americans loved Christine and loved to hate her husband, which made it easier for Erik to deny the existence of their marriage.

"How is she?"

"Extremely lucky. A few inches up and it would have hit her stomach, which probably would have killed her. An inch or two down and I wouldn't have been able to save them both."

He could feel the blood drain from his face. "Both?" Erik repeated weakly.

"Oh shit, pretend I didn't say anything…I'm sure she would have announced the news when she was ready." Katz pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "But she'll pull through. She's awake and asking for her son and someone named Erik."

"That would be me. May I go see her?"

"She's resting now, but I don't see why not. But I'm warning you, we had to give her some morphine to help with the pain. She might be a little…well…And she's going to need 'round the clock care. If anything doesn't seem right for any reason, take her to a hospital."

"I understand," Erik replied. He held out his hand. "Words cannot express my gratitude. You saved her life and for that, I'm forever in your debt."

Katz shook his hand. "I was just doing what any decent human being would have done." The two shook once more before Erik ran to Christine's side.

"Erik?" she murmured as he knelt beside her bed. "Erik, I don't feel right."

"It's from the morphine they had to give you from the pain."

Christine blinked slowly and looked around the room. "Gustave? Where's Gustave?"

Shame and anger welled up inside him. "Christine, oh my Christine…" Erik buried his face in his hands trying and failing to keep his composure. "We need to talk."

* * *

><p>There was nothing Raoul wanted more than to drown his sorrows in drink. The love of his life had been murdered and his child wasn't really his child. But Gustave had finally fallen asleep after hours of nonstop sobbing into his chest; if Raoul got up for a drink, he risked waking him and repeating the process. Gustave had held up until the ship left the port, and he realized that his mother was never coming back.<p>

Raoul felt terrible about pulling Gustave away like that without giving him time to mourn, but he also knew if they stayed on Coney Island any longer, the Phantom would have taken Gustave away. The Phantom might have been Gustave's father, but Raoul had invested ten years of his life raising the little boy, and even though he didn't always know how to show it, he did love him.

The Phantom had taken everything from him: his wife, his chance at a loving marriage and a happy life, and Raoul wasn't about to lose his son too. He smoothed the sleeping Gustave's hair as the ship rocked back and forth soothingly. All he could do was hope that Gustave could eventually forgive him for what he had done.


	2. Chapter 2

Christine stared at Erik in disbelief, her hand on her abdomen, only inches from where she had been shot, praying that the morphine was messing with her mind and that she wasn't really comprehending what Erik was trying to tell her. "I…I don't understand."

Erik ran his hand through his hair. She noticed a slight tremble in his hands, and she knew that everything was very wrong. "Raoul took Gustave…" He exhaled slowly, and his hands began to shake even more. "_Your_ _husband STOLE our son!"_

"They…they couldn't have gotten far, could they?"

"Were you aware that Raoul had tickets for a ship back to France?"

Her eyes grew wide. "He tried to convince me that we needed to leave instead of me performing. He said we had to leave right away or we'd miss it. How could they have made it if Gustave was with us on the pier?"

"Nothing in the port runs on time," Erik explained. "Everything usually ends up an hour or so behind. If that fop you married had their things packed ahead of time, they would have barely made it."

She could feel her heart beginning to race. Christine had never been separated from Gustave before, and he was probably very scared and traumatized after the day's events. "We have to go after them!"

The agony on Erik's face was clear. "Christine, you're in no condition to be traveling. And someone needs to take care of you."

"What about Madame Giry? Surely she could…"

Erik ran his hand through his hair and began to pace. "Christine, I can't trust her anymore. She was trying to manipulate Phantasma behind my back to her advantage. She prostituted her own daughter for money because she thought it would benefit herself! And I don't know where Meg got that gun from, but it wasn't from me. Imagine what Giry could do to you with me gone completely!"

"I'm not helpless, Erik. Gustave needs you."

"But you're seriously hurt." He stopped and buried his face in his hands. "Is Gustave in any danger with the Vicomte?"

"No, no, absolutely not!" she cried. "Raoul would _never!_ He loves Gustave!" Christine grew quiet suddenly. "Raoul doesn't know…I never told him that Gustave isn't his son. I…I couldn't…it would have destroyed what was left of our marriage."

He was silent for a long time before finally admitting, "I told him."

"_What_?"

"I told him. We ran into each other, and when he insisted that you would never leave him solely because Gustave was his son, and I lost my temper and snapped."

Christine felt utterly betrayed. "I only told you because you had already figured it out! It was meant to be a secret, _my _secret!"

"You told Gustave the truth after I begged you not to!"

"That was different! I thought I was dying!"

"AND NOW GUSTAVE IS GONE!"

Time froze for an instant. Christine stared at Erik and watched as his face went from rage to regret. But before he got another word out, Christine cut him off. "I did what I thought was best at the time, but you…you're just as manipulative as ever. I went back to you ten years ago because I loved you and I thought since you had let us go, that you had changed, but clearly you haven't. You forced my hand to force me to perform for you instead of Hammerstein after letting me believe you were dead for nearly a decade, who knows what you've convinced Madame Giry and Meg to do for you, and now you've been using Gustave as a weapon against Raoul." Tears began to slide down her cheeks. "I love you Erik, but I'm not sure I can trust you." She tried to shift so that she was further away from him, but moving sent agonizing pain through her body.

"Stay still," Erik ordered as she cried out, before beginning to rummage through the bandages and other supplies left by the doctors who had saved Christine's life. "I promise you, I can change. I _will_ change for you. For you and Gustave. I promise. Dammit, didn't they leave anything for you to help ease the pain?"

"They gave me some morphine earlier, when I first woke up, but they said they didn't want me to have too much." She put her hand over her the bandages on her stomach and cried out again. "And I think what they gave me is wearing off. The pain is going from excruciating to worse than anything I've ever experienced in my life."

"There's nothing here!" He slammed his fist down on the table with the bandages, before trying to compose himself for Christine's sake. "But I suppose not in your condition," Erik snapped.

"My _what_?!"

Erik froze. "When the doctor said you were going to announce it when you're ready, I thought that meant you knew…"

Christine burst into a fresh wave of tears. Erik watched helplessly as she sobbed from the pain and being so overwhelmed. She had been forced through more agony in a matter of hours than most people felt in a lifetime. Not only had she been shot in the stomach by her best friend, and forced to deal with agonizing pain, in her mind, she had been abandoned by her husband, lost her child, and discovered she was pregnant with the child of a man she didn't love.

He knelt beside her and caressed her face, singing softly to lull her into a trance. Once she was as consoled as he could get her given the circumstances, Erik ran and fetched some laudanum. Without any sort of pain medication, the only thing that could help his poor Christine cope was sleeping through it. She obediently opened her mouth when he asked her too, and soon she was asleep.

Once Christine was sleeping, Erik sat beside her and put his head in his hands. Today couldn't have gone any worse. Yes he had Christine, but he had lost Gustave, and Erik had no idea when he would be able to go after him. And his angel was angry with him, rightfully so, but that didn't make things any easier. All he could do was pray that after he brought Gustave back and set everything right that she was able to forgive him.

* * *

><p>"Father?"<p>

Raoul turned and saw Gustave watching him with red rimmed eyes. "I didn't realize you were awake." He sat down beside the little boy. "What is it?"

"Mother…said….she said…that Mr. Y…was…my…father," he hiccupped. "Is…is that true?"

He fell quiet for a long time. Raoul couldn't believe that Christine had told Gustave. It seemed more than a little boy of his age could handle. But it was too late. "Yes, it's true," Raoul admitted quietly.

Gustave stared at him with wide eyes and a quivering lip. "But she married you."

"She did."

"Why?"

"Well, I used to think because she loved me, but now I'm not so sure."

There was another long pause between the two of them before Gustave asked another question. "Do I have to stop calling you 'Father' now?" The little boy looked like he was going to start crying again at the thought.

"No, Gustave, not if you don't want to. You're still my son, and I still love you, no matter who your real father is." Gustave threw his arms around him, and began to cry again. Raoul held him tightly, unsure of what else to do. Christine had always been much closer to him, seeing as Raoul was usually drinking or gambling, but Christine was gone now. He was going to have to pull himself together for the little boy relying on him.


	3. Chapter 3

Erik spent his days at Christine's side. He wasn't able to leave her for more than a few hours at a time. She was completely bedridden, and therefore entirely dependent on him. It was a _long_ process, far longer than Erik could have ever anticipated. For the first several weeks Christine did nothing but sleep or cry, and there was little he could do to ease her agony.

But as time passed, Christine began to grow stronger. She was still confined to her bed, but eventually she was sitting up, talking, reading, and sometimes she'd even play a game with him. Of course, she was still angry with him and often cold, but he was hoping that his angel would warm up to him once more.

There was the additional problem of the ever growing elephant in the room. Christine had Raoul's child in her womb. She had begged for days for Erik to allow her to write the Vicomte and tell him, but he wouldn't allow her. "Raoul is the father! He has a _right_ to know!"

"Christine, I have the world convinced you're dead. Other than you, me, and the man who saved your life, no one knows that you survived that bullet! If anyone were to discover that you contacted Raoul, the newspapers and the reporters will never stop hounding you. Besides, do you really think he would let you go, especially if you're with his child?"

"Do you expect Raoul to hand over Gustave just because you asked?" she countered.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there. But I promise you, I will bring Gustave home safe and sound, no matter what."

"No! Erik, I know what that means with you. You're going to hurt Raoul if you don't get your way aren't you?"

"Of course not!"

"Then why don't I believe you?"

"I know in the past I haven't given you the reason to, but Christine, please understand I want to be the man you deserve and the father Gustave needs. And that means, as much as I don't like it, I won't lay a hand on your husband."

"And I might believe you if I hadn't met your famous temper."

"Christine, I have you, I have your love, and now we all know that Gustave is my son. I've no reason to want to hurt him. Once we have Gustave back, I'll have everything I ever wanted. I will have won."

"Won?" Christine repeated. "Is that all that any of this means to you? Beating Raoul?"

"You misunderstand me," Erik said quickly. Christine had no knowledge of the bet he had made with the Vicomte and he intended to keep it that way. "All I ever wanted my entire life was to be normal, to have a normal life, but I was always told I was too ugly, that no one would ever love me. Yet here you are with me. The beautiful, talented, angelic Christine Daae loves _me_, the unlovable Devil's Child, and we have an amazing son. The two of you are all I ever could want."

"What about the baby?"

Erik stared at Christine's growing belly for a moment, trying to think of the right words to say. For a brief instant, he toyed with the idea of trading the baby for Gustave, but not only would Christine never forgive him for even suggesting it, but also it would tell Raoul that Christine was still alive and that would also complicated things. "Am I happy that it's Raoul's child? I'd be lying if I said anything other than I wish it weren't the case with every fiber of my being. However, it's also _your_ child, and I love you. If that means I help you raise it, then I will gladly do so."

* * *

><p>Raoul noticed that Gustave was having an extremely difficult time adjusting to life in France without Christine. He knew that losing a mother that young had to be devastating, but Gustave had always been a resilient child. But now, instead of playing with his toys and doing the things that most little boys his age did, Gustave spent most of his time sulking and avoiding everyone.<p>

He wanted to help, he really did, but Gustave had always been far closer to Christine, and Raoul wasn't sure what to do. There was one day he had accidentally walked in on Gustave crying over a picture of Christine, but when Raoul tried to comfort him, or at least talk, Gustave had turned away. Raoul didn't blame him, they hadn't been close before, but they were all each other had left. And it seemed what little bonding the two of them had done on the boat was for naught.

It was the house, of that Raoul was certain. There wasn't anywhere that didn't remind him of Christine somehow, and he knew it had to be worse for Gustave. While he had been off drinking and gambling, Gustave had been here with Christine.

With a sigh, Raoul returned to the mess of papers that covered his desk. There was nothing more he wanted right now than a drink, but the first thing he did when they had arrived home was dump all of his liquor. He had to salvage the mangled family finances while there was still something left to salvage.

Raoul ran his hand through his hair, staring at the mess he had created. It wasn't supposed to be like this! An old family friend had offered to let him in on an investment he was starting up. Raoul had already lost thousands when his wife's lover burned the Populaire to the ground and he was looking for a way to grow the family fortune again. The family friend had _always_ made the de Chagnys money, and a lot of it, so even though it sounded like a risky plan, it was incredibly easy for Raoul to say yes. But this time…this time the money hadn't come back. No matter how much Raoul asked and begged and pleaded and demanded, his so-called "friend" either wouldn't or couldn't pay him back. Then while at another friend's party, Raoul had won a small fortune at cards, and that was the beginning of the end. He had made the mistake of thinking that maybe, just_ maybe,_ he could make back the money he had lost. But he was never able to duplicate his initial success. When he began losing more money, Raoul began to drink to cope with the stress, and when he drank, he lost even more money, creating the vicious cycle that landed them on Coney Island.

Christine had been the one to suggest that she come out of retirement, and the family was in no position for Raoul to refuse. After he rescued her from the Phantom, or at least he _thought_ he had rescued her, they decided it was best if she gave up singing and instead focused on her duties as a wife and eventually a mother. But when the money disappeared, he had no choice but to allow Christine to resume her music career. She began singing across France and eventually across Europe for the highest bidder. When Oscar Hammerstein offered them a ridiculous amount, he forced Christine to accept even though she didn't want to go. She begged him not go make them go; she said it was too far, that she didn't want to go to America, that she had heard terrible things about the people, but at that point, they were bleeding money.

But now there was almost nothing left. Christine was gone, and Raoul was left to pick up the pieces alone. He had reached out to some old friends, called in a handful of favors, sold what little property he had left beyond the house, and invested every last penny he had to his name into a couple of their businesses. Of course, this was after thorough research to make sure that they were going to be stable. He was going to be turning a profit almost instantly, which would save him and Gustave. They were never going to be able to afford the lavish lifestyle he once had, but the two of them would at least be comfortable.

Which led him to his other problem: what to do with Gustave. The piano remained silent, which should have relieved Raoul, but it didn't. While he wanted nothing more than for Gustave to be as different from the Phantom as possible, the piano had always been one of his favorite pastimes. Maybe it was best for Gustave to get out of the house. He had never really spent any time with any children his own age, and clearly being here alone wasn't helping him.

* * *

><p>"Gustave, what's wrong? Why aren't you done packing yet?" his father asked when he saw the luggage lying open on his bed.<p>

"Father, did I do something wrong?"

"No," he said with a reassuring chuckle. "No, you haven't done anything wrong. Why would you think that?"

"Why are you sending me away?"

"This isn't a bad thing. Gustave, you're going to a school with a lot of other boys your age. You can make lots of friends. The school will be able to teach you all kinds of wonderful things. I know how curious you are."

"But what about Mother?" Gustave felt his lip quivering. He didn't want to go, no matter how nice and how good of a school Father said it was.

His father handed him something small and gold as if he were expecting the question. "This was your mother's locket. This way, she can go with you."

Gustave opened it up and one side was a small picture of his mother and the other was a man. But it wasn't Father, and it wasn't even Mr. Y. "Who is that?"

"That is the man we named you after. Your grandfather, Gustave Daae. He was one of the world's greatest violinists and an even better man."

He stared at the locket for a long while, running his fingers over the smooth metal trinket. "Can I learn to play the violin?" he finally asked quietly.

"It's not that kind of school Gustave. I'm sorry but they don't teach music there."

"Oh."

"Maybe when you're older, but for now, we need to get you packed. You've got a very big day tomorrow, and you have to leave early if you're going to be at the school before nightfall."

"Father?"

"Yes Gustave?"

"Are you _sure_ I'm not in trouble?"

"No, you're not in trouble. I promise you, this is for the best."

Gustave resumed his halfhearted packing as the man he still called Father left. He glanced at the doorway for a long time before whispering, "Are you sure?"


	4. Chapter 4

"Easy now, careful, don't push yourself too hard."

"Erik! I know how to walk!" Christine snapped, whirling around to face him. But the sudden twisting movement caused her to double over with a groan. Erik, who had been hovering over her the entire time, instantly scooped her up and carried her back to her bed. "I'm never going to get out of this bed am I?"

He smoothed her hair and sat on the edge of the bed beside her. "You're alive Christine. And you're healing. For your first steps since you were shot, you did remarkably well. I have confidence that you'll be up and about soon enough."

"I need to be up _now_. Erik, it's already been several months. If we don't get Gustave soon, he's going to think we abandoned him."

"Christine, even if you were healed, you couldn't go with me."

"Why not? Gustave is my son just as much as yours! If anyone can convince him to come back to America, it's me. I know him like no one else does. He's a special child, Erik. Change upsets him so easily, and he's going to need something familiar."

"No. Christine, you're with child. _Raoul's_ child. He'll try to take you away from me. I won't lose you a third time! Besides, as far as the world is concerned, you're dead. You could be recognized, something could happen to you. I won't risk it."

"Then at least let me write! It's almost Christmas. Please Erik, I've never been apart from Gustave for more than a day or two. I miss him so badly, I just need him to know that he isn't alone, and that we'll come for him as soon as we can."

She could see Erik's heart breaking in his eyes, and he fell quiet for a very long. "Christine," he finally said. "If you asked for the moon and the stars, I'd find some way to get them for you. But I can't. I can't risk losing you. I'll explain everything to him. I'm sure he'll understand. Maybe not right away, but someday."

Erik wrapped her in his arms as tears began to stream down her face. "I just want him back, Erik! I want my baby back again!"

He pressed his lips against her temple and rocked her back and forth. "I know," he murmured, trying to comfort her. "I know you do. I want him back too. We'll get him back, I promise."

* * *

><p>Raoul sighed before walking into Gustave's room. The boy was home for the Christmas holidays and was currently staring out the window at the falling snow. "Father, can I go outside and play?" he asked excitedly.<p>

"Not right now. We need to talk." Raoul noticed how Gustave's face fell at his tone.

"Is this about school?"

"So you already know."

Gustave turned to face him and crossed his arms. "I don't like it there Father. It's _boring_. Why can't I stay here with you?"

"Because you need to go to school. It's important. They wouldn't teach you anything that wasn't important."

"Why can't I learn about what I want to learn about?"

"That's not how schools work, Gustave. You have to learn what they tell you to learn, just like all the other boys there. I had to learn all those things too when I was your age. I didn't like it very much either, but it's a part of growing up."

"Can't I stay here and learn it?"

"No, Gustave, you need to be with other boys your age. You need to make more friends. Staying alone like this isn't good for you."

"I don't like the other boys. They're mean to me!"

"How so?"

"They make fun of me because of Mother! They try to take away the locket you gave me! They tease me because they all have mothers and I don't!"

Raoul sighed, trying to think of what to say to comfort the boy. "I'm sure it's not so bad."

Gustave had tears in his eyes. "I hate it there! I never want to go back!"

He fell silent for a long time, trying to think of what to say. "Gustave, listen, you've only got a few months left. I want you to try to finish the year out. We'll talk again during the summer on whether or not you have to go back next year."

"Do I have to go back at all?"

"At least through the end of the year, Gustave. Please, give it at least one more chance."

"What if I don't want to?"

"Please Gustave, do it for me." When Gustave hesitated, Raoul sighed again, before playing his final card. He went back to where the item he sought laid in storage, untouched for years, save perhaps the few times Christine might have gone to it. For a moment, he stared at it, wondering if he dared, but he was going to have to give some in order for Gustave to cooperate.

"Father, what's that?" Gustave asked when Raoul walked back in.

"I'm going to make a deal with you. I know Christmas isn't for a few more days, but I think you can have this one early. _But_, you have to finish this year out at school. And it can't go with you, but it'll be here for when you're home for the holidays."

The little boy stared at the rectangular box for a long time before running his fingers along the faded, scuffed black leather exterior. He glanced hesitantly at Raoul, not quite sure what to expect, before flipping the latch, lifting the lid, and gasping. His eyes lit up and his smile was the biggest that Raoul had seen since before Christine died. "Really Father?"

"This was your grandfather's violin. Your mother kept it all these years. But it can't go with you to school. It has to stay here. Do we have a deal?"

Gustave nodded excitedly. "Yes Father!" He threw his arms around Raoul and hugged him tightly. Raoul hesitantly put his arms around the little boy, returning the hug. He wasn't sure what on earth he was getting himself onto. He wanted Gustave to go back to school. The best shot the little boy had was getting a proper education, and maybe, just maybe, he'd turn out alright.

Raoul didn't want Gustave to be anything like the Phantom and he was worried what giving the little boy access to the violin would do. Gustave was also only ten. Interests changed all the time for boys of that age. It was entirely possible he'd get bored with it before he ever went back to school. But he was the son of the Phantom of the Opera and the grandson of Gustave Daae. As much as he wished it to be otherwise, he knew he probably wasn't going to be that lucky.


	5. Chapter 5

Christine turned when she heard someone knocking on her door. She stood and was halfway across the room when the door opened without invitation. "Erik, what's going on?" she asked as he barged in. "What's wrong?"

"Pack your things. We have to leave. _Now_."

Her eyes widened at his tone. "What happened?"

"There were a couple reporters nosing Phantasma earlier. This isn't the first time, but this time, I caught one of them trying to break into _here._ If someone found out you're here, that you're alive, that you're _pregnant_, you'll be all over the news, Raoul will come after you. Christine, this isn't France, in America, they'll never allow you a moment of peace again. They'll torment you until the end of your days."

"What are we supposed to do? Where are we supposed to go?"

"I've purchased some property further south," Erik said as he began to pile up her belongings. "I'm hoping that either the news of this hasn't gotten that far, or if it has, that it's been long enough they don't care anymore."

"That far? Where are you taking me?"

"Virginia."

Christine's legs gave out from beneath her in shock. Erik ran across the room and caught her in his arms, and knelt so that they were both on the ground. "What about Gustave? What about my baby?" she sobbed into his chest. "We can't leave him!"

"We're not going to leave him," Erik assured her. "The property I purchased, it's in Richmond. It's a port city. The instant I get you settled, I promise, I will be on the first ship back to France to get him."

She nodded as Erik cupped her face in his hands and gently wiped away her tears. "It's just it's been so long and he's got to be so scared and alone. He's always been such a special boy that he has a hard time with people, especially other children. This has to be so hard on him."

"And I know that it's been far from easy for you, my Christine. I miss him more than anything, and I'm sure even that pales compared to what you've been going through. And that's why I swear to you, as soon as I know you're safe in Virginia, I will go after him."

Another thought struck her as she wiped her eyes. "Wait, you said you had just caught them, but you already have a place for us to go? And what about Phantasma?"

Erik sighed. "I hadn't told you yet because I didn't want to add to your stress, but I never planned on us staying here permanently. How could we after what happened to you here? After you were hurt, I purchased it with the intention of going there after you were healed and Gustave was back with us. And as for Phantasma, the season is done until next spring, and I have already arranged for a buyer for the park."

"So that's it then? You're going to drop everything you know to move so far away without knowing what's awaiting there for you, just because you think I might be in danger?"

"I've done it before for far less."

Christine stared at him for a long time in shocked silence. She had never really considered the lengths Erik had to go to in order to avoid being discovered. And from the look in his eyes, something made her think that his trip to America hadn't been the first time he had lost everything he had ever known. It was then that she finally began to realize that she barely knew the man she thought she loved.

* * *

><p>There was something bothering Christine. Erik put his arm around her waist, trying to comfort her. "What's wrong?" he asked. "Is the house not to your liking? I'm sorry, I didn't exactly have the chance to see it in person. Once I return from France, we can redecorate if you'd like." He sounded desperate to please her, even to his own ears, but he was desperate to span the gap the past decade had put between them. Christine wasn't the same as when he had first fallen in love with her, and he was terrified of alienating her even more. Erik was praying that reuniting her with their son would help ease the transition, but at the same time, now that he had her, he was more terrified of losing her than ever.<p>

"No, no the house is fine," Christine said, offering him a small smile that did little to hide the exhaustion in her chocolate brown eyes. "It's just been a long trip, and the baby has been moving a lot, which isn't exactly comfortable."

"Do you need anything?"

"I'm fine."

"Are you going to be alright while I'm away?" Erik asked, eyeing her belly. There was just enough time for him to go to France and return with Gustave a few weeks before the baby was due, but he knew nothing about pregnancy and was reluctant to leave Christine.

She gave him the same tired smile. "Don't worry about me, Erik. It's not like I'll be alone." Which was true. Upon their arrival, he had hired a few people to help maintain the house so Christine wouldn't have to, but he still was far from comfortable with leaving her. Christine had chided him, saying he needed to learn to trust more, but Erik had always believed that she was far too trusting. "Please, just get our son back. I don't know how much longer I can go without him."

"In less than three weeks we'll have him back, my Christine. Just think, after as long as we've had to wait, less than three weeks and he'll be in your arms again." Erik took her hands and kissed them. "Just think about that."

Christine put her hand on his good cheek and stroked it with her thumb. "Be safe. Come back soon."

Erik leaned in and kissed her, something he had been growing more and more comfortable with the more they were together. He had been afraid of it at first, but Christine never seemed to mind physical contact. "I love you, my angel."

"I love you too."

He reluctantly turned away and picked up his bags. But no sooner than he had taken a few steps, Christine screamed. Erik whirled back around and saw Christine doubled over in pain. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Christine groaned. He grabbed her to keep her on her feet as her knees buckled. "Gustave needs you. You need to go."

"What is wrong?" Erik repeated, more forcefully this time.

"The…the baby." The instant the words were out of her mouth, Erik was sprinting through the house, Christine in his arms, screaming for someone to get help. "No!" Christine protested. "You can't miss the ship! You have to get Gustave!"

"Gustave is going to have to hang on just a little bit longer. Right now, you need me just a little bit more."

She cried out again as Erik set her down on the bed. "This wasn't supposed to be like this! Coming to America was supposed to fix everything!"

Erik sat beside her, held her hands tightly, and kissed her knuckles, trying to offer what little comfort he could. "Everything _will_ be alright," he replied, although he wasn't sure which one of them he was reassuring. "You're going to be alright."


	6. Chapter 6

Christine screamed loudly, squeezing Erik's hand until her knuckles turned white. "You're doing great," he cooed. "Just a little bit more."

"You need to push ma'am," the doctor ordered.

She screamed again, louder still. Christine was in so much pain that it broke Erik's heart. "Isn't there anything you can do for her? Look at how much pain she's in!"

"Nearly there, just a little while longer," the doctor replied, his voice calm and cool despite Erik's flaring temper. "You're doing excellent. The baby's nearly here. Just another big push."

Erik squeezed her hand reassuringly, and wiped a few stray curls away from her sweaty forehead. "Did you hear that? You can do it, Christine." After one final scream, Christine collapsed back against her pillows. "I'm so proud of you," Erik whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple.

The doctor handed the screaming baby to Ruth, one of the new housekeepers who had volunteered to help with Christine's labor. The doctor had been reluctant to let Ruth assist because of her dark skin, but she insisted that she had helped with many women with childbirth, and Erik thought Christine could use all the help she could get. The two exchanged a glance, and Erik realized by the looks on their faces that something was very, _very_ wrong. He glanced back at Christine who was staring at the ceiling with dazed, half-lidded eyes. "Christine?" He turned to the doctor, his heart racing with terror. "What's wrong with her?"

"She's hemorrhaging. If I can't get the bleeding to stop, we're going to lose her."

"No!" Erik screamed. "You can't let her die! You have to save her!" She blinked slowly, once, twice, but the third time, her eyes didn't reopen. "_Christine!"_ He began pleading with his unconscious angel in French, begging her to wake up, to stay with him; some small part of him was hoping that the familiar language would be enough to stir something within her.

After what seemed like an eternity, the doctor finally spoke again. "I managed to get the bleeding to stop, but she's not out of the woods yet. But if she makes it through till morning she's got a chance."

"How could this have happened?" Erik demanded. "The baby wasn't due for weeks!"

"She's not exactly strong, Sir, physically anyway."

Erik began to pace beside Christine. "I know. She was injured terribly in an accident at the end of the summer. She was barely recovered when this happened." He instinctively brushed away a curl on her forehead. "And her mother died when Christine was born. She was raised by her father."

"That would certainly have an effect, but going into labor this early is usually triggered by stress or a sudden shock."

His face went white. "Stress?" he repeated.

"Has she been under a lot of it lately?"

"We just came here from New York a few weeks ago. And I was supposed to return to France. Our son is there...with a friend of Christine's," Erik lied. "Christine wanted him with her before the baby came. I…I was leaving to get him when this happened."

The doctor stared at him in shock. "You're telling me that you moved across the country with a heavily pregnant wife, and you were about leave her to go to Europe? It's no wonder this happened."

Erik could feel the guilt welling up inside of him. It was _his _fault that this had happened. If he hadn't let Meg take Gustave, if he had talked her into giving up the gun, if he had sent someone after Gustave sooner, if he had just protected the woman he loved, they wouldn't be in this mess.

"If you care about her at all, you're not going anywhere. She needs you."

"Our son, he's the one she needs. She's never gone this long without him before. He's only ten. He can't come back on his own. That's why I was supposed to go back. We thought there was….there should have been enough time for us to get back before this. She begged me to go back for Gustave. This wasn't supposed to happen!"

"Well your son is going to have to wait. Or you're going to have to find someone else to fetch him for you. Your wife needs you here with her."

He nodded with a sigh. "I understand. Thank you." The doctor nodded, grabbed his bag, and walked out.

"Sir?" Erik turned and saw Ruth walk back in with a bundle of blankets. "I thought you'd like to meet your daughter."

Erik opened his mouth to object, when he realized that as far as anyone was concerned, he _was_ the baby's father. As far as anyone knew, he _was_ Christine's husband. "Very well."

She placed the baby in his arms. "Careful. Support her head. That's it. Just like that." She smiled. "I'll let the two of you get acquainted."

After Ruth left, Erik stared at the thing he was holding. He didn't know what to do with it. He didn't want it. Yes, it was Christine's baby, but it was also Raoul's. If Christine didn't pull through, Erik had no idea what to do with it. Raoul couldn't take care of it; it was clear he was an incompetent parent. But Erik didn't know the first thing about babies. He glanced at Christine. "You have to pull through," he whispered.

* * *

><p>Raoul tossed the letter aside and buried his face in hands. What was he going to do with Gustave? The headmaster of the boy's school had written him saying that Gustave wasn't doing well. Apparently, he wasn't doing well in any of his classes. The headmaster swore that Gustave had more potential than all the other students, but wasn't putting forth any effort.<p>

This was what Raoul was afraid of. Christine had spoiled Gustave, allowing him to do whatever interested him instead of what he should have been learning, and now he refused to interact at a real school.

He hadn't made the situation any better either by giving Gustave the violin. The little boy had spent his entire Christmas holiday with the instrument and threw a fit when he had to go back to school. Raoul had to remind Gustave about their deal, and he cried for hours. He ran his hand through his hair and leaned back with a sigh. He should have cut off the music instead of giving Gustave access to more. But now it was too late. Hopefully the school would be able to straighten him out before Gustave became a completely hopeless case.


	7. Chapter 7

Erik could hear the baby screaming in the other room. He had given it to one of the housekeepers when it started crying again, because he could never get it to stop. And the thing had wailed all night, all he wanted was a few minutes of peace. He didn't know anything about babies; he hadn't been there when Gustave was born. And frankly, he didn't want to be near the thing anymore than necessary. It had nearly killed the woman he loved and ruined his plans to finally retrieve his real son from the clutches of the Vicomte.

He let himself into Christine's room, where she lay unconscious still. Her brown eyes fluttered when he sat on the bed beside her, but she had been drifting in and out for hours and had yet to wake up for any length of time. Erik leaned down, kissed her forehead, and began to play with her curls. "Christine, I love you," he whispered.

Her eyes were glassy, but for once, they stayed open. "Erik?" she murmured.

"I'm here, my angel," Erik said, grabbing her hand and caressing her cheek. "I'm here."

"What…what happened?"

"Do you remember anything?"

"The baby…baby was coming…" Her brow furrowed as bits and pieces of the day before seemed to come back to her. "Coming way too early…Erik, what happened?"

"You started bleeding. For a while there, we weren't sure if you were ever going to make it. But you're going to be alright, Christine. It's going to take a while, but you're going to be alright."

Christine blinked, trying to focus. "But was it a boy or a girl?" She looked around, as if she expected the child to be beside her. "Where is my baby? What happened to my baby?"

"A girl. I'll go get i-." He barely stopped himself from saying 'it.' "I'll be right back," Erik said softly in an attempt to correct himself. Leaving Christine for a moment, he found the housekeeper with the baby. It was the first time he had ever asked for it, and she seemed surprised, but handed it over without a fuss.

"She's so little!" Christine gasped in horror when Erik walked back in. "Gustave was so much bigger when he was born!" She pushed herself into a sitting position and held her arms for the child. Erik practically thrust it at her. Christine was hoping he'd be its father, and for the staff's sake, he was going to have to pretend he was, but he could barely stand touching the little creature. However, Christine didn't seem to notice his aversion, as she was busy cooing over the thing. "Did you name her yet?"

"No."

"You didn't-?"

"I didn't think it was my place. It's not exactly my child."

"Er-…I…You…" Christine stared at him, searching for the right words. Erik had been cold with her; he knew his tone was too harsh, but what else was there to say? It was the truth! She looked back down at the child in her arms and continued in a much quieter tone. "I was thinking Annabelle, after my mother."

"So you named our son after your father, and now your daughter after your mother? Oh, that's very original." The instant the words left his mouth, Erik regretted it. He knew that Christine's mother had died when she was extremely young, and Christine barely even remembered her. It was clear he had crossed a line. She stared at him with watery eyes and a quivering lip. "Christine, I'm so sorry, I..."

"I suppose it doesn't really matter what you think," she said, her voice barely audible. "After all, like you said, it's not your place. She's not exactly your child."

"No…Christine…I meant…"

"Get out."

"What?"

"GET OUT!" Christine screamed through her tears. Erik had _never_ seen Christine this angry before in his life, not even when Raoul took Gustave. He backed up against the door quickly, and when his hand hit the knob, Erik fled from the room. His hands were shaking as he darted down the hall to barricade himself in his music sanctuary, Christine's sobs and the baby's wails following him the entire way.

* * *

><p>Raoul sighed and walked out the door as the carriage pulled up. The door opened and Gustave reluctantly stepped out. Raoul gasped but the little boy wouldn't look at him. "What on earth happened to you?" he demanded.<p>

"I…I got in a fight," he whispered softly. "The school said they wrote you a letter."

"They did, but they didn't tell me you had a black eye. Are you hurt anywhere else?"

Gustave shook his head. "No." He slowly looked up to meet Raoul's eyes. "Am I in trouble?"

"You got kicked out of school for fighting. Yes, you're in trouble."

This little boy's lip began to quiver. "I…I didn't mean it. I was just so mad! He grabbed Mother's locket and they broke the chain. Look!" Gustave reached in his pocket and thrust the golden trinket at him. "He grabbed it and when I tried to take it back, he broke it!"

Raoul put his arms around Gustave as he began to sob. "Let's go inside."

"Where's the piano?" Gustave asked through his tears, noticing the instrument's absence instantly. "Where did it go?"

"I'm so sorry Gustave, but I had to sell it," he lied. "I know how much it meant to you but I didn't have any choice."

The little boy wiped his eyes as he sniffled. "Where is my violin? Is it still in my room?"

"Gustave…" Raoul exhaled slowly. "You were expelled from school. That's not a good thing. I have to punish you."

His eyes widened. "What? Father, you can't…"

"You got _expelled_. Gustave, you haven't given me any choice!"

"Father, please! It's not fair! _He _started it!"

"It doesn't matter who started it!" Raoul snapped. "Gustave, you are eleven years old! You can't be picking fights like this. I know he broke the locket and I know that made you upset, but you need to learn to control your temper!" He let out a deep sigh and began to rub his temples. "It's too late to get you into another school. I'm going to have to hire a tutor for you, like we need more expenses."

"But I don't want…"

Raoul began to pace. "Gustave, you need an education. Just because you aren't going to school doesn't mean you don't have to learn. I'm going to get you a tutor and you aren't going to get that violin back until you finish your coursework that you would have done in school to that tutor's satisfaction."

"That's not fair!"

"Life's not fair! Gustave, you need to learn to control your temper. You wouldn't have had the violin back until you got home from school anyway. You're lucky I'm not taking anything else away. Are we clear?"

Gustave sniffed and wiped his eyes again. "Yes Father."


	8. Chapter 8

Christine smiled as Annabelle's tiny fingers curled around one of her own. She was absolutely smitten with her daughter; Annabelle was every bit as beautiful as Gustave had been when he was born. But Annabelle was so much smaller than Gustave had been because of her premature birth, and it frightened Christine. If something were to happen to her daughter, she wasn't sure she'd be able to take it.

Her smile faded as the baby began to cry. "No, no, it's alright, Mama's here," Christine cooed softly in French. Erik had mentioned once in passing before Annabelle was born that he didn't really think it was worth teaching her French, as no one spoke it in America, but Christine disagreed. She wanted her to learn it, in case they ever went back, and maybe even a bit of Swedish, just so Christine could have a reason to speak her native tongue.

The door to her room opened, and Ruth walked in, having heard the baby fuss. "She'll probably need changing," the housekeeper said, holding her arms out for Annabelle. Christine hesitated. The dark skinned woman softly, trying to reassure her. "I promise you Ma'am, she's nothing I can't handle. I had five of my own."

"I'm sorry," Christine said quickly, reluctantly handing over the baby. "It's nothing personal. It's just she's so frail."

"Nothing personal?" Ruth repeated quietly.

Christine's eyes widened, afraid she had misspoken. Her English was far from perfect, and she didn't know any regional phrases or their meanings either. "Did I offend you? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean anything by it."

"No, it's just that you're the first white woman to ever apologize to me." She was horrified by Ruth's confession. There weren't exactly a lot of colored people in France, so Christine had never interacted with anyone of a different skin color before coming here, but the few she had met so far, were all pleasant enough. Ruth just sighed as she changed the baby. "Y'all might be foreign, but it won't take you long to figure out how things work around here. Folks don't always take kindly to what's different."

_What kind of place has Erik brought us to?_ Christine wondered. If Ruth was right, they were potentially looking at a lot of trouble. After all, there was nothing more different than an eccentric French musician with a bad temper and a mask on his face. How on earth could he possibly expect her to raise two children here?

Her thoughts were interrupted when Ruth handed Annabelle back. Christine immediately began to coo over the child and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Ruth chuckled. "You know, I heard Mr. Destler say y'all had a son, but he's so afraid of that sweet baby, I thought I had misheard. But you're such a natural mother, there isn't any way she's not your first."

"Gustave, our son, he's in France right now. But Erik…Erik wasn't there when Gustave was born…there were extenuating circumstances. He was in New York, while I was behind in France raising Gustave. So you're right, he isn't comfortable with Annabelle."

There was a knock on the door. Ruth opened it, revealing Erik standing in the doorway. "Christine, can we talk?" he asked quietly.

"Ruth, do you mind taking the baby?" The housekeeper nodded, took Annabelle back into her arms, and left the room. "What is it?"

He cringed at her tone. "Christine, I'm so sorry about earlier. I didn't mean it. You know I didn't mean it."

She turned away. "You hurt me, Erik."

"I know, my angel, I know." He fell to his knees beside her. "Please forgive me. I love you. All I want in the world is to make you happy."

Christine reluctantly faced him. "You say that Erik, yet here we are."

Erik reached up to caress her cheek, but she shied away from his touch. "I know things haven't been as you had hoped. Believe me, Christine, this isn't exactly as I planned either. I never intended all this when I brought you to Phantasma. I just wanted to see you again, that's all. But things got out of control. I promise you, I just want to make things right."

"You keep saying that, but nothing ever changes! You haven't even gotten Gustave yet!"

"Listen to me, if I could go, I'd leave this instance, I would, but the doctor said you aren't strong enough to be left alone yet."

"But I'm not alone!" Christine snapped. "Erik, you've hired a house full of people, yet you don't seem to trust anyone!"

"And you're too trusting!"

"Clearly the only person I can't trust is you!"

She might as well have struck him. "Christine, I'm sorry. I've never had a reason to trust anyone before, and when I did, I would up getting hurt. I just don't want the same thing to happen to you."

"No I'm sorry," Christine apologized. "I know things haven't been easy for you either, now or…well ever really. It's just every time things start to look up, something bad happens. And I'm so worried about Gustave. It's been nearly a year now, and before this, he had never even spent the night away from me."

Erik kissed her temple. "I know. I don't think there's anything crossing the Atlantic out of Richmond for a while, but there's enough river traffic, I could go to a bigger port. I promise you Christine, I will get him back."

* * *

><p>"Papa?"<p>

Raoul jumped. He hadn't heard Gustave walk into the room, and the little boy had rarely called him that _before_ Christine's death. Now he seemed to be having a hard enough time with 'Father,' so 'Papa' meant Gustave was having a _really_ bad day. "What is it Gustave?"

"Who is Mr. Y?"

"The uh, man from Coney Island," Raoul replied slowly, unsure of why Gustave was asking the question. "The one who owned Phantasma."

"No, I meant…I…I meant…how…?" His voice trailed off and the little boy stared at Raoul helplessly.

"How did Mother know him?" Raoul finished the question for him. Gustave nodded. He sighed and motioned towards the sofa, where the two of them sat side-by-side. Raoul sighed. "He taught your mother how to sing. He was the one who helped her become famous."

"But what about you?"

"I met your mother when I was fourteen. Her father was a traveling violinist and she went everywhere with him. We were at the sea, when she lost her red scarf to the wind. She was so upset, I went into the sea to get it back for her. It was the coldest I had ever been in my life, but she was so happy to have it back that I didn't mind. She called me her hero and she kissed my cheek. I was only fourteen, but even then, I knew I was in love with her. But she and her father continued to travel and I had to return to Paris. Years later, I had just become patron of the Opera Populaire and I saw your mother onstage, where she had just made her debut as a star. We began courting and eventually got engaged. Mr. Y didn't like that and tried to break us apart. Things went from bad to worse, and eventually we had to leave."

"What happened?"

Raoul thought long and hard about his answer. Gustave was just a child. He had suffered more than any eleven year old ever should have already. Was it really fair to tell him that his birth father was a kidnapper, murderer, and arsonist too? "He tried to convince your mother to marry him instead of me. We got in a fight, there was an accident, a fire, some people got hurt. Your mother and I had to leave before any other bad things happened, so we did. We got married, and that was that. Or so I thought."

"Why…if he was so bad, why did she…?"

He exhaled slowly looking into the little boy's watery eyes. "I don't know Gustave. Honestly, I don't know."

* * *

><p>Gustave pressed his ear against the door. He could hear his father and new tutor talking inside the study. "I just don't know what to do, Monsieur le Vicomte. Gustave is an extremely bright child. He clearly comprehends everything; he finishes his coursework faster than I ever expected, and he's rarely wrong. But I can't keep him engaged. He does his work solely because he has to, and nothing more. I've tried asking about what interests him, but if he has any beyond the arts, he won't tell me."<p>

"But he's not giving you any trouble is he?"

"Other than complete and utter apathy, no."

His father sighed. "I'll talk to him. But I'm sure what to do about him either."

_What to do about me?_ Gustave thought. _What do you mean 'what to do about me?' What have I done wrong?_ The door swung open, revealing him to the two men. "Gustave?" his father cried in surprise. He motioned for the tutor to go before looking at Gustave sternly and crossing his arms. "What are you doing? Were you listening in?"

"Why am I in trouble? What did I do?"

"No one said you were in trouble Gustave…"

"You said you had to figure out what to do with me!"

"That's not what I meant. We were talking about your schoolwork. Your tutor says you don't care very much about it."

"I hate it!" Gustave shouted. "It's boring! I want to learn about the things I choose, not what he says!"

His father sighed. "I've told you time and time again that this is important. I know you don't like it, but you have to learn. Your mother spoiled you and let you do whatever you wanted, but she's gone, and you can't do that anymore. It's part of growing up."

"Well maybe I don't want to!"

"Gustave you're being childish. First, you got in trouble at school, and now this. I'm disappointed in you."

He froze. All he had ever been told in his life how wonderful and smart and talented he was, yet his father was telling him he was disappointed when he hadn't even done anything wrong. The only thing going through his head was _Father thinks you're not good enough. And you'll never be good enough for him. You've done everything he's ever asked of you, and you're still not enough._ "Why do you hate me?" Gustave asked quietly.

"What? I never said that. Where did you get that idea? Gustave, I don't…"

"That's why you sent me away isn't it? Because I'm not really your son! You hate my real father and now you hate me too!"

"No, Gustave, I…" Before he could say anymore, Gustave turned and ran to his room, slamming the door behind him. "Gustave!"


End file.
